


Cards

by yeaka



Category: Amnesia (Game & Anime)
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 07:51:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20060566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Kent ponders in the afterglow.





	Cards

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is just for the game Amnesia: Memories; I haven’t played the others or seen the anime.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Amnesia or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The quick rush of hormones is something he’s read about, the prickling heat below his skin and blurring vision all known side effects, but somehow, he’s still never ready for it. The brief moment of weightlessness and the feeling of intense relief both leave him light headed, his knuckles tight in the sheets as the rest of him goes lax. His spent body slumps down on top of Ikki’s. Then Ikki murmurs a quiet, “Oomph,” against his shoulder. 

Ikki’s slender fingers splay out against Kent’s chest, giving him a minor push. It reminds Kent to be more considering—something he’s deliberately working on. Even if his weariness makes sense, he shouldn’t crush the man beneath him. Ikki’s skin is burning anyway. Kent shifts onto his side, and Ikki squirms out from under his weight, dragging and crinkling the sheets. They’re both semi-glued to the white linens with a thin sheen of their own sweat and a few other trace liquids. Kent’s glasses are on the nightstand, but he can still see most of the mess they’ve made. 

He can still see how _gorgeous_ his partner is. He can’t make out the details of Ikki’s bright blue irises or the individual strands of his soft hair, but Kent can make out the flush across his pale cheeks and the way that silver hair’s ruffled and slicked across his forehead. The mark beneath his eye is particularly endearing in bed, when it’s the only thing marring his otherwise naked body. He’s a beautiful specimen no matter what he’s wrapped in, but he’s undeniably irresistible when he’s bare. 

And he’s in Kent’s bed, hoarse from panting Kent’s name. The grooves of Kent’s fingers and teeth litter his trim hips and curved shoulders. His toned chest rises and falls at a heavy pace, worn out from the force of Kent’s efforts. The sheets cover him from the waist down, but the indents in them don’t leave much to the imagination, and Kent finds his gaze dipping along the slopes of Ikki’s spread thighs. 

A deep breath, and Kent looks away again. He told himself he wouldn’t ogle his best friend—would rudely stare or find reasons to get too attached. Instead, he reaches over Ikki’s exhausted figure for the nightstand, stealing a quick sip of water. 

When he’s finished, Ikki sits up enough to pluck the cup out of Kent’s hands and enjoy a large gulp. Then he sets the glass back on the counter and plops right back down. 

It draws Kent’s attention back to Ikki. Before he can stop himself, Kent’s wondering aloud, “Why?”

“Why?” Ikki repeats. His voice is still breathless, his eyes still dilated. When they first started, Kent had assumed the effects wouldn’t linger—that their arousal would disappear as soon as the act was finished. Evidently, he was wrong. 

He’s learned many other things from Ikki, albeit hardly as useful or intriguing as the mathematics Kent teaches in return. In that spirit, he asks, “Why do you sleep with me when you could have anyone?” Immediately after, he corrects, “When you _do_ have anyone.”

Ikki’s plush lips drop into a frown. His head rolls to the side, gaze leaving Kent. It takes him a moment to slowly answer, “_I_ don’t have anyone else. _They_ have my body, but the rest of me, who I am, has nothing to do with it.”

It feels like a line. One of those clever things Ikki says to his girls. But it still makes Kent’s chest constrict, maybe because he knows it’s true. He doesn’t say anything else, just watches Ikki chew his bottom lip and ponder. 

Kent slumps against the headboard in the meantime. Work’s finished for the day, and he’s ahead enough on his conference preparation to take the night off, so there’s really no reason to hurry back into the shower and his clothes. He tells himself that’s why he isn’t leaving.

Ikki’s eyes eventually return to Kent, a little clearer than before. He’s breathing more evenly, though the evidence of their deeds is still everywhere. The mattress reeks of sex and their mingling cologne. Ikki mutters, “At least with you, you actually like me for me.” He says it like a statement, but then follows weakly up, “Right?” 

Kent isn’t the best person to bring feelings to. He’s working on that. He makes an effort to identify the painful feeling in his stomach, then realizes it’s _pity_.

On the surface, it seems absurd to pity a man so perfect. Ikki isn’t just handsome; he’s charming. He’s suave, intelligent, easy to be around, and he _gets_ Kent: understands his style and can almost keep up with his equations. There are a multitude of reasons why Ikki’s so wholly loved. 

Unfortunately, one of those reasons is the curse of his eyes, and Kent’s mood sinks with the reminder. The first time he ever heard Ikki _complain_ about so easily seducing so many girls, Kent had found him annoying. But now Kent’s been around long enough to have seen all the struggles and heard all the heartbreak, to understand that Ikki will probably never find a girl that’s actually _right_ for him. Because of that, Kent pushes past the discomfort. He just admits, “Yes. I like you well enough.” And then, because he _does_ care about Ikki, “I’m sorry. I know how difficult it must be to be unable to properly connect with women.”

To his surprise, Ikki shrugs. “I’ve gotten over that now.” A wide grin takes over his mouth, and he closes his eyes when he tiredly admits, “At least I can have men.”

Disgruntled by the very notion, Kent snorts, “It’s not the same.”

“That’s alright.”

Ikki lifts his hand up to where Kent’s is resting. It creeps onto him, gently stroking across his knuckles before wrapping around his palm. Kent allows Ikki to squeeze it and draw it over to his mouth, where he presses a tender kiss against the back. 

Kent feels like he can’t breathe. He says for both of them, “I can’t.”

“Mm,” Ikki hums, eyes growing as warm as his smile. “You were singing a different tune a few minutes ago...”

Kent frowns and tugs his hand away. That’s different. He knows he can’t resist Ikki’s body. If he’s perfectly honest, he can’t resist the rest of Ikki either. But he can try. He insists, “It won’t last beyond summer break. It won’t work.”

“Why—”

“We’re both men, Ikki. That’s not what we want.”

Ikki grins in such a way, both sad and determined, that Kent’s conviction actually wavers. But he doesn’t let that show. He’s always dreamt of his life ending up a certain way, and he’s well on the path to accomplishing it—his grades are excellent, he has a prime spot at an important conference, an opportunity to follow his career passions abroad is sitting on the table. All he’ll need after that is a nice house and a cute wife. Thanks to his practice with Ikki, he should be able to manage that fine.

He thought Ikki had similar plans. But Ikki murmurs, “That’s alright if you think so for now. It’ll give me a challenge. I think I wanted that.”

Kent can feel his eyebrow rising. “If you wanted a challenge, I had an interesting thought for expanding yesterday’s exercise—”

“I’m going to fight for you, Ken. I’ve already decided.”

Kent closes his mouth and stares down at the flawless creature lounging in his bed. He doesn’t know how to feel. 

Ikki rolls on like it’s easy, “I like that about you. About us. We’re different, but we work. I’m tired of the same old dating cycle. I’m tired of having a girl swoon into my arms, dopily follow me around, and put out whenever I want. I try to treat them right, and I do, but I also want to argue sometimes, to clash and compromise, to have angry sex and makeup sex afterwards. I can have that all with you. I don’t know why it took me so long to see it.”

For lack of anything better to say, Kent grunts, “That’s foolish.”

Ikki smiles. His eyes don’t work on Kent, but his pleasure does: his happiness is prettier than a dozen sunsets and warmer than the beach. He makes Kent rethink things and grow, providing stimulus that no one else has. 

Ikki pushes up on his elbows, then sits up properly, scooting back to sit with Kent at the headboard. His bent knees brush over Kent’s lap, tickling his skin. An arm reaches around Kent’s shoulders, and the next thing he knows, he’s being drawn into a kiss that leaves him breathless. 

Ikki always knows just how to kiss him. A few swipes of Ikki’s tongue inside his mouth, and Kent is melting. Another kiss, and it’s too much. 

Kent pushes him away. Kent climbs out of bed butt naked and strolls to the shower. He needs to get away. 

He can’t stick around too long, because he knows he’s starting to fall in love too. 

But when he hears Ikki’s steps pad after him, he doesn’t protest, and he breaks and kisses Ikki back in the shower.


End file.
